TIME
by Azalee
Summary: Witch Hunter ; Lee x Yue x Xing, every which way. The Bairong princes and the slightly dysfunctional relationships between them as they grow up.


A fic for Cho Jung-Man's manwha _Witch Hunter_.

Lee/Yue/Xing every which way (but no threesome). Thus,

**Warnings :** Spoilers for Xing's past (vol 5, chapters 18 to 20). Male x male incest sex. Profanity. Bit of psychological issues, screwed up brotherly relationships (and some of that is actually canon). Oh, and fluff.**  
**

This could have been much, _much_ more psychological, screwed up, and tasteless. Which doesn't mean that it isn't already. ... It does, however, explain why I'm not entirely satisfied of it (especially the end, I just couldn't find a nice way to end it).

Not actually _inspired_ by Tom McRae's song _You Cut Her Hair_, but while finishing up on the editing I wrote down a line that suddenly reminded me of it and, yeah. It fits so eerily I ended up using lines of it for the title and stuff.

Written for and cross-posted todreamsofdestiny's lj-community** witchunterworks**, because _holy crap a WH fanworks community that's actually active _and the people there are amazing._  
_

* * *

**TIME**

_(has colored in_

_the black and white_

_of your sins)_

* * *

They are five and Xing is bawling his eyes out. Yue doesn't even wait for his crying little brother to ask before climbing all the way up the tree and then back down with the kite, delicate red-and-gold paper shaped like a roaring dragon.

Today, Yue is a hero and Xing hugs him tight and only cries harder, while Lee laughs like sunshine and pats him on the back.

oxo

They are seven and Yue is trying out the same trick on little girls.

It _works_.

oxo

They are ten and Lee is beating the crap out of Xing. Today's lesson, as concluded by Yue, is: better train than study, might makes right, and better not expect his brothers to go soft on him.

Xing only manages to land a kick before Lee sends him flying to bite the ground. Lee is congratulated; Yue is asked to tell Xing that, when he wakes up, he is not allowed any break until he has mastered today's techniques like the other princes.

Afterwards, though, Lee and Yue carefully carry their unconscious younger brother to the garden and lay him down under the shade of a tree, then sit down together next to him and tell each other jokes all afternoon.

oxo

They are thirteen and Xing should really know better than to try to read when he hasn't slept well in days. Especially when the nightmares that have been bothering him featured economy treaties attacking him. Viciously.

Yue laughed himself silly when Xing told them about that with that sheepish grin of his. Lee just snorted.

Xing is a dedicated idiot, but still an idiot. Lee doesn't really mind, though, not when his baby brother snoring and drooling all over his open book means having his other one all to himself.

Yue's talking about some girl, again, but it's the fourth one in two months so Lee isn't worried. Yue hasn't even kissed her once yet.

"Hey, Yue," he whispers, swiftly and shamelessly interrupting his brother's account of his womanizing exploits. "Stop playing Casanova."

Yue blinks, and Lee isn't quite as brave as he likes to think he is so he adds:

"You should train more, instead. I don't want to beat you too easily during sparring lesson again."

"Again?" Yue chuckles, a warm and transfixing sound. Lee loves making him laugh.

Lee only won once this month. He doesn't know that Yue let him, out of pity.

oxo

They are sixteen and Yue is letting Lee fuck him into the wall of the White Dragon temple.

He owes Lee this much, he thinks, because he's an infuriating genius who just _can't_ be anything less than way better than his brothers without even trying, without even _wanting_ that stupid throne. Yue knows that Lee hates him for it, and desperately hopes that letting his older brother fuck him is going to make Lee like him more.

He's right; about the first part, anyway. What he doesn't know, though: Lee also adores him, just as much, just as fiercely, just as madly as he hates him, and _that_ is why he's thrusting inside his brother and biting his neck.

Xing knows absolutely nothing of this.

Or so they're convinced, anyway.

oxo

They are seventeen and Xing is devastated that the three of them are pushed away from each other like this, but also, somewhere, deep inside of him, he knows he's also relieved. It's an ugly, ugly feeling, but not as ugly as the irrational, devouring envy that had been eating him away for so long.

He remembers one afternoon, months ago, when he tried going to the palace library and heard his brothers' laughters intertwining with each other and resounding all the way down the hallway. He'd smiled and hurried his step, but kept silent, wanting to witness this moment without interrupting, because it'd been so long since the last time he and his brothers had laughed together -

but by the time he reached the room, the chuckles had turned to quiet moans and pants and Yue was kneeling between Lee's legs and sucking him off.

He hates knowing that Yue is ready to leave them behind and that Lee is willing to force them away; but not as much as he hated knowing that the two of them didn't need _him_.

Yet when Yue cuts their hair, changes their names and hands him down the right to the throne, kneels down in front of him and kisses the back of his hand with the same large, cheeky grin as ever, as if Xing couldn't see the slash across his bare stomach, and says:

"Best wishes, Your Majesty,"

even then, Xing can't bring himself to hate him.

So he leans down and kisses his brother on the lips.

Yue's surprised eyes but fond, _happy_ smile is all Xing is thinking about even as he feels the heavy weight of the imperial crown being lowered onto his head.

oxo

They are twenty and fighting each other.

Yue goes by WH Xing Bairong today; he is back in Bairong for the first time in three years and can barely recognize his own land. Tarras is yelling something from behind him, but the stone building crumbling, the wood cracking and the people screaming are making enough noise to almost cover it, so he doesn't even bother pretending that he's listening.

Lee is standing in front of him, staring at him through flames and smoke, scar on his brow matching the one across Yue's stomach. He smirks, slowly, a feral and hungry, delighted grimace, and Yue can't be quite sure whether he's thinking of that time against the wall of the temple or of that fight in the palace gardens.

And Xing is - somewhere, not here. Probably in the palace, if it's still standing, if plotting ministers haven't taken over yet, if Lee hasn't gotten close enough to kill him yet. Yue never understood it, but this was what Xing always wanted, for his whole life, and what he got: Xing is the Emperor now, powerful, chained down by responsibilities, and alone.

Xing Bairong, Black Class WH of the West HQ, also known as His Majesty Yue, true Emperor of Bairong, is finally back home and seriously sick of all this shit.


End file.
